


Ruined in the Best Way

by AnotherUselessLesbian



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Bottom Catra (She-Ra), Established Relationship, F/F, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series Finale, Service Top Adora (She-Ra), Smut, Top Adora (She-Ra), Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherUselessLesbian/pseuds/AnotherUselessLesbian
Summary: “It’s okay, Catra. I’m here. I’ve got you.” Adora presses a kiss to the side of her throat, and Catra tenses at the contact, her claws pulling through their sheets as she struggles to use her damn words.“No, Adora. It wasn’t—it was a good dream,” she manages to choke out through gritted teeth, and the admission is enough to earn her a profoundly confused look.She clears her throat and tries again. “It was a really good dream.”OrCatra wakes up hot and bothered from an interrupted wet dream.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 638





	1. God damn the black night

Catra wakes with a start. The night air hisses through her teeth as she jolts upright into consciousness.

She blinks away the fog of sleep, but fragments of sensation linger in the dark as her body hums with the afterimage of a dream she can’t look away from.

She recalls the cold and unforgiving metal of Hordak’s throne beneath her, the bite of cord around her wrists and calloused fingertips gently edging her knees apart. Flashes of tongue, teeth and tenderness flood every corner of her mind, and something deep inside her pangs at the memory of blue eyes hovering just between her naked thighs.

_Fucking hell._

Feeling worked up and ridiculously overheated, she throws the tangle of blankets aside and pulls her shirt over her head with trembling hands. The cool air soothes her flushed skin and matted fur, but it does little to relieve the pulsing need in her core that aches in time with her frantic heart.

_What the fuck was that?! And Adora—_

The Adora in her dream was an unstoppable force, all deft fingers and open-mouthed kisses, soft words and steady hands that draped Catra’s shaking legs over her muscled shoulders. And _those eyes_. So bright and full of brazen hunger, but it was Catra who was left starving when soft lips met the heated flesh between her parted thighs.

_No, stop that thought. Now is not the time for this._

She settles back against the sheets and tries to forget the unmistakable imprint of strong fingers holding her hips in place. Dragging her hands through her hair, she opens her eyes wide and tries to focus on her present surroundings. She fixates on the familiar shadows of the bedroom she shares with Adora, a space so far removed from the Fright Zone that some other Catra is still tied up in, but her chest won’t stop heaving.

Tentatively slipping a hand beneath her ruined underwear, she keens softly at the touch and curses the dream for leaving her soaking wet and wanting. She carefully presses a finger inside, and every nerve ending in her body screams _yes_ at the intrusion, but she knows it’s not enough. She could touch herself until sunrise, and it still wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her overwhelming desire to be taken.

She rips her hand away, twists it sharply into the sheets and wills her mind to be quiet and her body to be still, but the harder she tries to ignore her twitching muscles, the more she’s haunted by the eyes that held hers as she thrashed under their gaze.

_“I’ll take good care of you, my pet.”_

Adora’s echoed words are nearly enough to ruin her right there, and turning her head, she can’t help but whine at the frustratingly gorgeous sight of Adora sleeping undisturbed beside her.

She doesn’t want to wake her—doesn’t want to be the reason why Adora loses another night of sleep, but she doubts this feverish need will go away on its own. Besides, Adora would probably feel left out if she woke up to find Catra desperately trying to get herself off, even if it did involve an elaborate fantasy that she would surely approve of; a fantasy that is _still_ ruthlessly playing though Catra’s wasted mind…

“A-Adora?” she whispers shakily, unable to hold off any longer.

No doubt conditioned by years spent fending off nightmares, Adora’s eyes flutter open almost immediately. She regards Catra carefully, her eyes struggling to focus as she sleepily asks, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just had dream…” Catra trails off, unsure of how to explain why this couldn’t wait, why every muscle is pulled taut and every inch of her humming with pure, undiluted want, and then Adora is right there, looping an arm around her bare waist and sending her reeling with even the most innocent of touches.

Still oblivious to the nature of Catra’s predicament, the blonde pulls herself in closer, nuzzling Catra’s neck as she mutters, “it’s okay, Catra. I’m here. I’ve got you.” Adora presses a kiss to the side of her throat, and Catra tenses at the contact, her claws pulling through their sheets as she struggles to use her damn words.

“No, Adora. It wasn’t—it was a good dream,” she manages to choke out through gritted teeth, and the admission is enough to earn her a profoundly confused look.

She clears her throat and tries again. “It was a _really_ good dream.”

“What do you mean?” Adora asks, propping herself up high enough to squint down at Catra through the darkness.

A beat passes, long enough for Adora to take in the tension strung throughout Catra’s trembling body, long enough for her to see the chaotic state of their bed and hear the short, heavy pants that suffuse the air around them.

Long enough for her to notice that Catra is inexplicably naked from the waist up.

Suddenly wide-awake, Adora experimentally runs her fingers through the short, tawny fur on Catra’s exposed side, and Catra whimpers—actually whimpers because Adora is _finally_ touching her with some fucking intention.

Adora hears it. She must hear it. There’s nothing else to hear but the soft, needy sounds that spill from Catra’s lips. Adora moves her hand to rest against the feline’s hip, and Catra blazes at the touch, every bit of her impatient to feel those fingers come alive against her skin. The pulsing need between her legs becomes almost painful from neglect as she strains to keep her claws from tearing further into their bed.

“What kind of dream?” Adora asks somewhat too innocently, and Catra gives up all hopes of being able to answer without begging.

“Adora, p-please. I need you to touch me.”

But that’s not right. What she needs is to come undone, to be completely and thoroughly wrecked at Adora’s command. Adora must know it too, but she isn’t about to let Catra off that easily.

“I am touching you, Catra,” but there is no cruelty in her voice, only a hint of curiosity for what could possibly make Catra say ‘please’ so readily.

As if to prove her point, Adora swipes her thumb over the jut of Catra’s hipbone, and Catra can’t help but wonder when Adora learned how to act well enough to play it this cool.

Improbable as it is, her composure only makes Catra burn hotter.

“No,” she says bluntly, taking the blonde’s traitorous hand and pressing it firmly against the unmistakable wetness that’s seeped through her shorts.

“I _need_ you.”

Her pulse thrums under the pressure of their overlapped fingers as she searches Adora’s eyes for some spark of the bravado that made it so easy to give in, so simple to arch and push and pull against the very thing that would lead her to destruction. Instead, she finds herself overwhelmed by a look of awe and pure devotion, and then Adora is kissing her, stealing the breath from her lungs and steadily coaxing her into submission with a confidence that betrays the tender nature of her touches.

Adora is everywhere. She’s absolutely everything. Her lips tease at Catra’s throat, Catra's collarbones and her chest as she palms greedily at the juncture between Catra’s legs. Her free hand winds through Catra’s hair as her hips grind down in time with the violent tremors in Catra’s core and it is too much—far too much for Catra to do anything but surrender to every uncontrollable part of herself as Adora reduces her to a gasping, quivering mess.

She scratches at their sheets, her own pillow and Adora’s back as she writhes beneath the intoxicating woman above her. Adora’s lips seal around a stiffened nipple, her tongue flicking and teeth tugging, and Catra can’t help the claws that briefly flex into her shoulders. She tears them away and tries to stutter an apology, but Adora simply catches one hand and rests it gently on her waist.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs against the hollow between Catra’s breasts, “hold onto me, love. I’ll take good care of you.”

Catra seizes at that, the inadvertent echo of her fevered fantasy surging down her spine, flooding her sex with wet heat and boldly eliciting the single most pathetic sound she’s ever made.

Adora chuckles good-naturedly, a smile coloring her voice as she peels Catra’s shorts and underwear down her legs all at once.

“You’ll have to tell me all about that dream later.”

“I puh—I promise. Please, just… _Ah!_ ”

Adora plunges two fingers inside, easily sinking them up to the knuckles, and Catra drives her hips upwards to urge them even deeper. Adora draws her hand back slowly and Catra twitches in its wake, her inner walls clenching in a helpless attempt to stall Adora’s retreating fingers. Her claws blindly grasp at the hard planes of Adora’s back and she sobs, shamelessly desperate at the gut-wrenching loss, but then Adora drives hard into her again, thrusting and dragging against that spot that makes her bones feel like live wire, and Catra couldn’t keep herself quiet if she tried.

Releasing her tangled hold on Catra’s hair, Adora brushes her thumb over Catra’s parted lips—still swollen from their kisses—and Catra gladly takes it into her mouth with a moan. Adora slides the pad of her thumb against the flat of Catra’s tongue in an irrevocably possessive gesture, and Catra is once again reminded of how this all started.

_“We both know you would have waited forever for this.”_

Catra mumbles incoherently, her eyes closed and head rolled off to one side in near defeat as the dream surges back to life in her mind. Adora stills her ministrations, and pulling the digit from between Catra’s teeth, she whispers with low intensity, “what do you need?”

Feeling so deeply saturated with agitated arousal, it’s all Catra can manage to mewl between stuttered breaths, “ _more._ ”

Never one to refuse her, Adora slips a third finger inside.

The sound that escapes Catra’s lips in nothing short of animalistic; a ragged, strangled howl that only rises in pitch and volume when Adora runs her newly slickened thumb over Catra’s clit in small, demanding circles. Catra’s back arches dramatically, her chest lifting as if pulled by some unseen force as the coiling pressure reaches new heights in her core, but Adora doesn’t let up—doesn’t waver in her assault on Catra’s last shred of sanity.

“Look at me,” she demands, and her burning eyes hold Catra hostage better than ropes ever could. At Catra’s obedience, Adora’s fingers quicken with an unspoken urgency. They drive her relentlessly closer to a devastating climax, sending shockwaves down her limbs and keeping her steady through the tremors, whimpers and fractured sobs as Adora summons her undoing:

“That’s my girl. Come on, Catra. Come for me.”

Catra snaps under the tension, her body thrashing hard against the onslaught and jaw slackening in a guttural cry. Adora swallows the sound with a kiss, her hands still coaxing every bit of pleasure left in Catra’s dripping center and the feeling is exquisite, surreal and so intense it’s almost painful after so much time spent aching for release.

When the worst of the shaking subsides, Catra relinquishes Adora’s fingers with a shudder, and Adora slowly guides her back to a gentler reality. She rests her ear just over the feline’s heart, and Catra can feel Adora’s lips twitch into a smile as shaky breaths are gradually replaced by the low rumble of her purr. They lay there several moments before the spell is broken.

“So…” Adora starts, sly amusement dancing in her voice. “That was fun and unexpected.”

Catra lets out a brash chuckle at Adora’s sheer willingness to play along with her strange moods and untimely desires.

“You seemed to catch on pretty quickly, princess.”

Catra slips a hand just beneath the hem of Adora’s shirt, her fingertips trailing swirling patterns across Adora’s lower back as she asks, “is there, uh, anything I can do to return the favor?”

Adora hums contentedly into Catra’s fur. Sighing more than speaking, “that’s okay, love. I’m actually really happy right here.”

Before Catra can answer, Adora suddenly sits up to meet her blissed-out gaze. “Wait. Do I still get to hear about your dream?”

If Catra still had the energy, she might have blushed at that, but in light of everything they’d just done, she can’t begin to deny the earnest curiosity of this woman she loves so fiercely.

“Sure, Adora. I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”

Seemingly satisfied with her answer, Adora settles back into Catra’s arms, and Catra finds herself wishing she could stay like this forever; her heart bursting with love, her body heavy with satisfaction and the soft weight of Adora stretched out across her chest.


	2. God bless the daylight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kindly pardon my clunky framing device (and really, just, all the things), and enjoy the very PWP dream sequence that's been rotting my brain for weeks. :)

“Good morning, Catra.”

If there’s a better way to start the day, Catra hasn’t found it yet.

Her eyes flutter open to find Adora wide awake and staring somewhat expectantly from her side of the bed. She’s always been an early riser, so it’s not surprising that she’s been waiting for Catra to join her in the land of the living, but there’s an unspoken question hanging in the short distance between them. Catra reaches out a hand to bridge the empty space, and Adora takes it as permission to snuggle up against her side.

“Good morning to you too. Did you sleep okay last night?”

“Hmm,” Adora nuzzles her face against the fur of Catra’s neck. “Yes, but you should know, I’ve been distracted all morning.”

“Distracted?”

“Maybe excited is a better word.”

“Oh.”

The events of the past night rush through Catra’s mind; the crazy dream, her frantic state and Adora’s outstanding dedication to service, and it’s suddenly very obvious what the blonde is so excited about.

“I guess you haven’t forgotten about last night.”

“Yeah right!” Adora scoffs too loudly, and the sound ricochets off their ridiculously tall ceiling. “I’ve been dying to hear what got you so worked up without me.” She wriggles her eyebrows as she speaks. It’s an absurd attempt at being suggestive, and Catra has to fight the sudden impulse to smack her with a pillow.

“You were very much involved!” Catra opts to defend herself instead, but there’s no bite in her words, only playful fondness for this woman who’s clearly struggling to not bombard her with questions. Then a shadow of unsureness crosses over Adora’s face.

“It’s okay, Catra. You don’t have to—”

“No,” Catra interrupts her. “I said that I’d tell you about my dream in the morning, and I guess it’s the morning…” although after their midnight antics, she could really use a few more hours of undisturbed rest, “but you have to promise not to say anything until I’m done talking, okay?”

Adora, saying nothing, assumes a look of absolute attention. It’s almost overwhelming how engrossed she looks, like Catra wouldn’t be surprised if she magically conjured a quill and parchment just to start taking notes.

Catra smiles at the thought, feeling reassured that Adora would never tease her for the truth because her curiosity stems from a place of desire—an honest wish to understand the inner workings of Catra’s mind. And isn’t that what she wants? To feel safe in her vulnerability, to feel so loved and wanted despite it all?

Adora, surely sensing the feline’s hesitation, returns her head to rest on Catra’s shoulder, and the latter is somewhat grateful to escape the pressing eye contact.

“Okay,” she says, taking a steadying breath, “here’s how it went.”

\- - -

Hordak’s throne is cold and unforgiving as the rest of the Fright Zone. Catra waits there alone, dimly illuminated by an eerie, artificial green light as she assumes the most casually superior pose she can conjure. Her feet are kicked up on one armrest, her posture open and defiant as she absentmindedly picks at the claws on one hand.

An armored figure in Horde Solider combat gear approaches her in silence. Their footsteps barely sound off the cascade of stairs as they come to stand just before her. Without a word, they pull their stolen helmet away to reveal none other than The Rebellion’s precious hero.

“Took you long enough, _princess_ ,” Catra lashes out impatiently, but Adora remains nonplused.

Her helmet clatters to the floor like an indignant response. Her standard-issue gloves follow suit as she moves another step forward and leans deeply into Catra’s personal space. Taking the rude feline’s chin between rough fingers, she murmurs with low intensity, “don’t flatter yourself, Catra. We both know you would have waited forever for this.”

The air around them seems to crackle as Catra bites back her response, the fight leeching from her body as she finds herself sinking into Adora’s heady gaze. As if entranced by blue-grey eyes, she allows herself to be pulled up out of her seat and turned around by her chin like an animal. With Catra turned about, Adora’s hand trails away from her face. It sweeps across her neck, sending a shudder down her spine before catching on the neckline of her Force Captain’s uniform. Gripping the fabric in both hands, Adora tears it down sharply, pulling the cursed jumpsuit off and apart in one fluid motion.

It’s just cold enough for Catra to justify the way her fur stands on end, but her willingness to give in can’t be explained away so easily. She shivers at the sudden exposure, but she can’t find it in herself to fight back.

She steps out of the shredded mess around her legs without a second thought, and she’s rewarded by the staccato screech of a more deliberate tear along one long seam. Taking Catra’s hands in her own, Adora pulls the feline’s wrists together and deftly ties them behind her back with a strip of the ruined uniform. The bind pinches slightly, but it’s a grounding alternative to Adora’s light and tender touches.

“Don’t worry,” she speaks softly against the hollow between Catra’s shoulder blades. “I’ll take good care of you, my pet.”

The moniker is degrading, offensive and embarrassingly arousing. It shoots a stab of heated pleasure to the juncture between Catra’s legs. Her knees buckle slightly, her spine ringing with a sensation that leaves her breathing in short, shallow gasps as Adora drags a line of kisses down the center of her back. She descends to a kneel and her fingertips sink into the cradle of Catra’s hips. She teases her teeth along the backs of Catra’s thighs, and Catra is well and truly shaking, her legs all but refusing to hold their weight as the top of Adora’s head lightly nudges them apart.

Catra stiffens under her ministrations, every thought trained on the narrowing space between her core and the damp heat of Adora’s mouth. Her hands grasp blindly for the blonde hair surely just beyond their reach as slick arousal begins to drip down the insides of her legs. She prays Adora doesn’t see it, doesn’t notice how much a few humiliating words and well-placed kisses could make her come undone so easily, but her tail seems determined to give the game away. It flicks against broad shoulders, winds around Adora’s wrists and even loops around her neck to try and reel her in closer, but Adora holds fast and catches the traitorous appendage in one hand.

“Careful, Catra. I can smell how much you want this, so be good, and I promise I’ll give you what you need.”

Adora tugs her tail slightly, and at the sound of Catra’s moan, she buries her face in the tawny fur of Catra’s inner thigh. She laps up the wet trail with an indelicate swipe of her tongue, and Catra can’t help the broken sound that tumbles from her lips.

“Understand?”

Catra wants to scream _yes_ , her pride be damned, but the words are too difficult—too hard to form between clenched teeth, so she frantically nods her head and hopes that Adora can see it. Adora must. She hums with sure approval, and Catra lets herself be soothed by the sound. Without rising from the ground, Adora turns Catra back around and guides her down until she’s once again seated on the edge of the throne, only now, she feels exposed; naked, bound and needing more.

Adora holds her steady, her eyes bright and resolute as she places her hands on the feline’s knees. She slowly edges them apart, and Catra whimpers at the sight, her legs trembling but not resisting the position that Adora puts her in. Still, Adora doesn’t break eye contact, not even to spare a glance at Catra’s soaked center. She gently glides her hands up and down over Catra’s shaking thighs in what is surely meant to be a reassuring gesture, but the blazing look in her eyes is nothing short of predatory as her voice charges the air around them with sweet whispers.

“Good girl. You’re being so good for me, Catra.”

Catra groans at the praise as her muscles strain against nothing, her hips rocking and fingers twitching, her body desperate for friction, for relief, for anything to sate her need while Adora, perfect Adora, watches her squirm from a distance.

“Shh,” Adora whispers tenderly, “I know it's hard. I know you're desperate to be fucked, but you look so beautiful like this.”

Adora is still fully dressed, her hair neat and face calm like the very image of composure; like self-control personified, and it’s infuriating. It’s unfair. It is so. Fucking. Intense to feel so powerless beneath her hands, but submission has never been Catra’s strong suit, so when Adora presses too-light a kiss to the inside of her knee, Catra struggles to bite back every demand she wants to make.

Adora, seemingly satisfied with Catra’s state of sputtering desperation, lays another kiss higher, closer to the sopping mess she’s made. Slipping her fingers beneath the feline’s knees, she lifts them over her shoulders one at a time, forcing Catra to lean back and prop herself up with her bound hands. The change in position only opens her up wider, exposes her even further. The blonde lowers her gaze, finally fixating on Catra's slickened heat, and Catra watches her eyes blow wide with lust until only the slightest sliver of blue remains around their edges. 

She feels the taut muscles of Adora’s back stretch and pull beneath her legs as the blonde draws ever closer to her dripping center.

"You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”

“F- fuck. Adora…”

Adora licks her lips reverently, and the mere thought of coming undone beneath that silver tongue is enough to inspire a mindless stream of whimpers and helpless mewls.

"So beautiful," Adora says again almost to herself.

She leans in and presses her open mouth to the flat of Catra's stomach, and Catra can’t help but gasp, “ _please_.”

“Such a good girl."

“Fu- hgn,” Catra groans in a final attempt at words, and Adora leans down farther. Her fingers flex into Catra’s hipbones like a lover, like a lifeline, as her mouth ghosts over a patch of increasingly damp fur. It skirts around the place where Catra needs it most and it's so much, it's too much and Catra can’t take it anymore. Her eyes close and head rolls back until it thuds against the throne. She surrenders, a willing captive to Adora's steady grip, and the thrashing stills to an uncontrollable twitching as her mind drowns in anticipation, her body so completely wrecked and just begging to be taken.

“You’re so good when you’re mine,” Adora murmurs gently.

She seals her lips around Catra’s aching clit, and Catra is jolted awake by the sound of her own screams.

\- - -

Catra’s narrative meets its abrupt conclusion, and Adora lasts all of five seconds before blurting out, “that’s it?!”

Catra laughs, incredulous that after everything, _that’s_ Adora’s first question, but she’s also delightfully aware of the enticing blush that’s colored the blonde’s cheeks.

“Now you know why I woke you up.”

Adora smiles at the memory, no doubt proud of herself.

“But... how does it end?” she asks somewhat sheepishly.

And Catra, feeling inspired, answers with a devilish smirk before slipping beneath the covers to show her exactly how it ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! Your comments make this writer in quarantine very happy :) Cheers!


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